You won’t hear me roar
but I do an uncanny raccoon sound,
which I did the other day
for a girlfriend
who was sad
because it’s hard to be sad
while someone is being
a raccoon.
Which is so much of what it means
to be a woman,
which is to say
to be pragmatic
and psychic
at the same time.
To know where to find things
to know who to ask
to know when your kid
needs to pee
before he does.
That friend came over
with the sadness again,
rubbing her heart
as though it was a bruise,
not a future she must bury.
And I just listened
so quietly that my husband came down,
wondering why my friend
had come over to talk
to herself.
I tried to explain to him later
that there are times for raccoons
and times to stand still
in the flood.
He asked me how women know these things
and I kissed him
on his perfect mouth
on a hunch
that it was the answer
he needed.